Showing posts with label One Week Blog Tour. Show all posts
Showing posts with label One Week Blog Tour. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

One Week Blog Tour for Saga by J.A. Campbell with Author Interview and Giveaway



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Saga:  Legends of the Travelers Book #1 by J.A. Campbell
Audience:  Young Adult 12+, Genre:  Fantasy, Adventure, horses, Format:  ebook
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Publisher: Untold Press, Cover by:  Sean Hayden, Untold Press, Pages:  196, ASIN:  B012236VMS,
Date Published:  Aug 17 2015
 
blurb (1)
Taken from her people as a foal, Saga is plunged into a world completely foreign to her. All Travelers know other worlds exist, but they don’t expect to actually experience them until they are adults. Saga must learn to adapt to her new surroundings if she wants to survive until she’s old enough to be able to Travel among worlds and return to her people.
Jarl is the son of the Vanir High Mages and heir to the throne. Though young, his parents entrust him with the care and training of the captured Traveler foal. However, none of the Vanir understand just how intelligent the Travelers are and they may have given Jarl more than he can handle.
When Saga escapes, the High Mages decide she is too much trouble and has to be killed. Jarl defies his parents and goes after her. Will they remain enemies when Jarl finds her, or will they form a bond of friendship strong enough to save Saga’s life?

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excerpt (1)
"My Prince, High Mage Nessa sent me to fetch you."
Jarl considered ignoring the servant. He was in the middle of a great battle with a couple of the other mage children and he wanted to test his catapult. If Jarl sent him away, he knew his parents, the high mages, wouldn't be pleased. The thought of actually having to do chores, even if only for a week, was distasteful. They had servants for a reason, after all.
Jarl sighed and waved at his friends before acknowledging the servant. The boy wasn't much older than him, and wore plain brown as all the servants did. He looked up hopefully from the ground, briefly meeting Jarl's eyes, before remembering his place and casting his gaze to the ground again.
That breach of etiquette could get the boy flogged, and perhaps Jarl would save him greater punishment later if he had him whipped now. It was only a lash when you met the eyes of a son or daughter of a great mage or noble. The twenty required if you dared to look into the eyes of one of the mages would probably kill the boy. Jarl decided it was too much trouble and ignored the eye contact.
"Where?"
"Their private rooms."
Jarl's stomach sank. Maybe they'd found out about the prank he and Conor had played on Cook. It hadn't been nice, putting cheese crumbs in her favorite apron and leaving it where the rats could get to it, but she was mean. She'd been head cook for as long as anyone could remember and made the most amazing pies, which was probably why his father tolerated her disrespectful attitude.
Jarl nodded and headed across the well-manicured grounds toward the castle. Built with magic and stone, the castle towered above him. Banners flapped from the battlements, snapping in the breeze that didn't reach down into the walled grounds.
One of the side entrances was closest and, once inside, he dashed into the servants' ways. He wasn't supposed to run through the narrow hallways and grand corridors because a ruler's son was always composed and regal. He could get away with it in the dank servants' ways though, as long as he wasn't out of breath when he arrived.
In good shape, Jarl could run forever like the dire wolves that hunted the northern mountains. It was completely permissible for Jarl to run outside and he loved the feeling of freedom that it gave him. One day he would be permitted beyond the confines of the castle and would race all over his world.
Those musings kept him occupied until he ran out of back ways to dash through. He stopped and took a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart, made sure his clothing wasn't disheveled, and then stepped into the opulent hallway that led to his parents' suites. The thick blue carpeting muffled his footfalls and he felt the eyes of the guards stationed periodically through the hallway on his back. When he boldly looked at them however, none seemed to have moved a muscle, not even to twist their eyes and look at him. The guards wore dark green livery emblazoned with the crystal and the griffin. Only mages wore blue. Even mages in training couldn't wear blue until they reached the first order.
Jarl reached the heavy oak doors carved with the ever-present griffin and crystal symbols. The guards ignored him and he knocked on the door. An attendant inside opened it for him. Jarl hurried through the outer receiving room, well used to its ornate decorations and elegantly carved furniture. Blue dominated the room. Mostly bare except for some comfortable furniture for lounging and tables and lamps for reading. The private room beyond contrasted sharply. The tapestry and the picture of Jarl and his mother were the only decorations.
His parents sat at the table reading. They both looked at him when he entered, and Jarl tried not to act guilty.
"Your hair is sticking up. I do believe you have a leaf in it." His mother sounded stern, but he could see a glint of amusement in her eyes.
"Sorry, Mother." He ran a hand through his short curls and pulled the offending leaf out of his hair. Then he held it awkwardly, not knowing what to do with it.
"Oh, throw it in the fireplace and come here." She smiled and stood. Jarl did as he was told and hugged his mother tightly.
His father stood. "How are you today, son?"
"Fine, Father. What can I do for you?" At only ten, the formality was hard for Jarl, but he did try.
"We have a surprise for you."
Jarl's heart lightened. They hadn't heard about the cheese! He couldn't understand how though, as Cook had raised a huge fuss when she'd found her rat-chewed apron.
"Yes, Father?"
A slight smile creased his father's face at the eagerness in his voice. Jarl had tried to contain it, but he loved good surprises. The smile made him even happier, slight as it was. Geraint Ilmarinen was not a man used to smiling.
"If you're good, and you master that spell you've been struggling with, you'll find out tonight. Meet us in the stables an hour after dinner."
Jarl's heart sank again, but only a little. He almost had that spell down. Requiring concentration on two different components at once, thus far he'd managed to fail at the last minute every time.
"Yes, Father."
"Go practice, Jarl. We'll forgive you if you need to miss your dinner." His mother's smile appeared more often, but still he treasured it. He grinned back at her.
"Yes, Mother. If I may be excused?" Having permission to skip dinner meant he could send a servant for food and avoid having to dress nicely and all that stuff he hated about court.
"Of course."
He gave a quick bow and, unable to contain his excitement, he ran from the room.
"Walk!" The tolerant reprimand followed him out the door and he forced himself to slow once he reached the public hallway.
It didn't take long for him to arrive at the practice room, and he set to work on the spell with renewed enthusiasm.
∞ ∞ ∞
It took him several hours, and he almost forgot to eat the dinner that the servant brought for him, but Jarl finally got the spell to work. For all the effort, it was a relatively simple result. He was supposed to take a regular candle and make it burn with a green flame. Lighting the candle with magic was simple enough. However, altering the components of the wick to make it burn green wasn't as easy. Jarl could have cast a simple illusion on the flame, but that wasn't the point of the exercise. Supposedly, once you could perform the spell reliably with a candle, and then other fires, you would be able to apply the principles to much more complicated and powerful works of magic.
Jarl, now able to focus on something other than the magic singing through his veins, distantly heard the bell toll seven times. He was late! He should have left for the stables twenty minutes ago. He hastily grabbed a fresh candle, along with the one he'd managed to craft the spell on, and slipped into the servants' ways so he could run. His parents would understand. They always did when magic was involved, however he didn't want to keep them waiting, or they might decide he hadn't mastered the spell in time.
He hadn't even had time to wonder about the surprise. He thought it might be a horse of his very own since they were meeting in the stables. He could ride any horse he wanted—as long as it wasn't one of the hunting or warhorses. To have one of his very own seemed special. It also meant his father might start taking him out into the countryside more. Jarl felt confined, like he was missing out on life, since he mostly had to stay on castle grounds until he went off to school in a few years. Those with magical talent had to be protected until they could protect themselves. Shadow creatures called Ovattr hunted mages, very effectively. Now and again, a body would be returned to the castle, or the Mage School, torn by claw and tooth. The treacherous Alfar created the creatures long ago to destroy the human mages.
Jarl forced himself to walk when he reached the door leading from the servants' ways to the outer courtyards. Though still light out at this time of year, the oppressive heat of the day had lifted, and a light breeze dried the sweat dampening his hair. A seabird cried out, circling overhead, seeming to mock Jarl for running late. In his impatience, Jarl ended up half jogging when he wasn't in view of the stables, and walking as properly as he could when he knew his parents might see him. Liveried guards stood outside the main doors, the green contrasting nicely with the stone that made up the front of the stables. They didn't so much as glance at Jarl. Still, he imagined he could feel their eyes on him as he scooted passed their forbidding presence. The statue-like guards had always unnerved him, though he worked hard not to let it show.
Airy and open, the stables smelled of horse and dust and sweet hay. A dapple-gray that Jarl occasionally rode nickered when he saw the boy. Jarl smiled and scratched the horse on the nose before heading deeper into the large building.
A high-pitched angry squeal, followed by the thump of hooves against a wooden stall, startled him. By the time most horses made it into the stables, they were quiet. The horses in training and the warhorses were kept elsewhere.
A bucket crashed to the ground. Jarl heard other angry thumps and squeals, and he thought he heard the ghost of a voice screaming: Let me go!

about the author (1)
J.A. CampbellCampbell_authorpic1
Julie has been many things over the last few years, from college student, to  bookstore clerk and an over the road trucker. She’s worked as a 911 dispatcher and in computer tech support, but through it all she’s been a writer and when she’s not out riding horses, she can usually be found sitting in front of her computer. She lives in Colorado with her three cats, her vampire-hunting dog Kira, her new horse and Traveler-in training, Triska, and her Irish Sailor.She is the author of many Vampire and Ghost-Hunting Dog stories and the young adult fantasy series Tales of the Travelers. She’s a member of the Horror Writers Association and the Dog Writers of America Association and the editor for Steampunk Trails fiction magazine.
 
Angels with Attitude - Author Interview

What would you have done differently if you were the main character of your book ?

 In Saga, Legends of the Travelers book 1, if I were Saga, I probably wouldn’t have fought the Skria with the adult Travelers. I would have run away.

What was your inspiration behind this book?


 My whole Travelers series came about after numerous trail rides on my own horse in the mountains. It felt like I was being transported to other worlds and I wanted to write about it.


Why did you become a writer?



 Because I loved telling stories and it just sort of happened.


Do you have a favorite author or authors?



 Timothy Zahn and Kristin Britain.


Do you like to write your books in a continuing series?

 Yes.


If you could date any character from any book, who would it be and why?

 Anna, so I could have more time with Sabaska.
What kinds of books do you like to read in your spare time? Fantasy, all sorts.


As a reader and writer I think it is important to get to know your fans and make a connection with them as an author who takes the extra step to hear what their fans think and want in their continued writing is continued success and key to selling more books .Do you agree with that? 

Yes. It’s always nice to know that they want to read what you’re writing and it’s motivating to keep writing what they want to read.


Do you cry when writing sad scenes?

 I have made myself tear up a time or two with some seriously touching scenes.


Did you have a Cover Designer?

 My publisher takes care of my covers.


Who is your fictional boyfriend or girlfriend crush? 

I don’t have one these days. Sorry, kinda boring that way.


If you were able to dine and have a one on one with your favorite writer/author who would it be?

 Probably Kristin Britain.


Do you re-read your favorite books?



 Of course. It’s like hanging out with old friends.


Do you ever get in a reading slump like your readers do?

 I do sometimes end up with very little time to read, when the writing projects pile up. I’m still reading though, just not for pleasure. Then, once I get caught up, I usually binge read.



What is the funniest book you ever read? 

Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. Or possibly the Vorkosigan series by Lois McMaster Bujold. 
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Wednesday, April 22, 2015

One Week Blog Tour for The Nines by Dakota Madison & Sierra Avalon from April 15 to 23, 2015

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Presented by: Sparkle Book Tours
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The Nines - Series: The Nines # 1
by Dakota Madison & Sierra Avalon
 
Audience: New Adult/ Adult - Genre: Romantic Suspense - Format: eBook - Publisher: Short on Time Books - Cover by: http://coveryourdreams.net/ - Editor: Shirley Pearson - Pages: 202 - ASIN: B00UXJUMQ0 -Date Published: April 13, 2015


blurb

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Dakota Madison and Sierra Avalon team up to bring readers a new breed of antiheroes…THE NINES.

Vengeance is mine not the Lord’s. It’s what I breathe for. It’s what I’m still living for. I live for the moment when I will literally have his eye for mine. It’s been two years. Two long and difficult years, but my plan is nearly complete. When I’m not in a hospital having doctors try to repair my ravaged body I spend my time on the computer, doing hacking jobs for large corporations and governments who don’t want to get their hands dirty or be associated with a job if things go sideways. But they don’t have any reason to worry. I’m meticulous, so I’ll never get caught. Just one thing stands in my way: The mysterious young woman without a past who desperately wants to be part of my future. I just need to figure out why…

THE NINES is an ongoing romantic suspense series. Each book can be read as a STAND ALONE NOVEL or as PART OF THE SERIES.

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excerpt

Vengeance is mine not the Lord’s. It’s what I breathe for. It’s what I’m still living for. I live for the moment when I will literally have his eye for mine. It’s been two years. Two long and difficult years, but my plan is nearly complete. When I’m not in a hospital having doctors try to repair my ravaged body I spend my time on the computer, doing hacking jobs for large corporations and governments who don’t want to get their hands dirty, or be associated with a job if things go sideways. But they don’t have any reason to worry. I’m meticulous, so I’ll never get caught.
I have the one thing that most people don’t.
Time.
After I was burned it was difficult for people to look at me and when they did, it was with pity or disgust, often both.
Even my own mother.
I don’t want anyone’s pity. And I have enough disgust towards myself to last five lifetimes.
So I left everything I’ve ever known and started over on my own.
Now I spend my days and nights in the small home I inherited from my aunt when she died. I would never have chosen to live next door to a large state university. It’s often loud and there are young people everywhere. It’s a constant reminder of everything I lost. I don’t feel young anymore. I feel like an old man trapped in a twenty-year-old body. If wisdom is the gift of tragedy I’d rather be ignorant.
I rarely leave home. It’s amazing what you can have delivered to your door these days. When I do need to go outside, it’s always at night and I always wear a mask. Not like the ones kids wear on Halloween. It’s more like the one that the Phantom of the Opera wore, but my mask is black and was specially designed to cover the burn scars on the left side of my face.
My latest job is for an Eastern European mob family. Modern day computer espionage has given a whole new meaning to the term “mob hit.” There’s no blood, no violence, just five million dollars vanished from several off-shore accounts in the blink of an eye. And I get fifteen percent. Not bad for a few weeks’ work. Is it wrong to steal from criminals? I call it karmic justice. I don’t take jobs that could hurt innocent people. I only wrong people who have wronged others.
I have the luxury of a hefty bank account and very few needs. I don’t need to work another day my entire life and I wouldn’t want for a thing. But I need to keep my mind occupied. So I take hacking jobs that interest me and I take university classes online.
Having online discussions with my virtual classmates gives me the illusion of having friends and a social life. I realize it’s a poor substitute, but it’s the best I can do given my situation.
I try not to dwell on the past. The person I was, Mr. Popularity, the Class President, the Homecoming King, died the day my body burned like a barbeque on the Fourth of July.
My life now is in the shadows. Living with the fringe dwellers on the edge of humanity. I often feel like a man whose body has died, but his mind hasn’t caught up to that fact yet.
When my computer roars I know I have an incoming message. It’s from one of my contacts in China. I get a lot of work from the Chinese. I don’t speak Chinese and don’t have the patience to learn, so I use an intermediary to broker the deals. He gets fifteen percent of every deal he mediates.
I hear the familiar buzz of SKYPE and when I click on the icon Xiang Yuan appears on the screen. He’s young, probably just a few years older than me, but much better dressed. He always wears five hundred dollar suits and I’ve never seen him wear the same one twice. “I can get you eight hundred thousand,” he says.
I don’t reply right away. I like to play things cool.
He continues. “With your skills this job won’t take more than one week. Who else will pay close to a million for one week’s work?”
“The Russians immediately come to mind,” I reply.
“And they’ll slit your throat if you don’t deliver on time. We have much more patience than that.”
I give a hearty laugh. “You guys are saints. You’d never slit a hacker’s throat. Maybe I should tell that to Jenks. Oh, wait. I can’t. You killed him.”
“Jenks got sloppy. That’s one concern I never have with you. You’re too meticulous.”
I shake my head. “You’re just saying that because you need me to take the job.” “You’re the best person for the job,” he corrects.
“I’m the only guy you’ve got left.”
“Nine hundred thousand. But that is the final offer. Do we have a deal?”
I nod. “We have a deal.”
“Good. Let me know when the job is completed.”
“Don’t I always?”
Xiang Yuan doesn’t bother with a reply. He simply disappears from the screen.
I don’t need the money, but it’s an easy job that will probably only take a few days’ work. They’re offering close to a million for it. It’s not something I can refuse.
I rise and take a stretch away from my laptop. Sometimes it starts to feel like an appendage and that’s when I know I need a little time away from it. I step into the kitchen and make a fresh pot of coffee. While it’s brewing I glance out my kitchen window. My aunt liked to garden and the backyard is like a small sanctuary. I like to look at the plants and flowers, but I can’t be bothered with the maintenance. I have a gardener who comes by once a week to trim and weed and do whatever else needs to be done to keep it looking nice. I’ve never actually met the man, but I leave a check in an envelope for him under a mat on the back porch.
From my kitchen window I also have a slightly obstructed view of the small street I live on. The fact that it’s Macedonia Boulevard and my name is Alexander is a coincidence that is not lost on me.
The house is one block removed from one of the major thoroughfares the students frequent, so it’s not as noisy as it could be for being so close to campus. I’m still just a few blocks away from some of the dorms and much of the off-campus housing.
I’m surprised to see a beautiful girl, carrying a backpack, stop right next to my house. I have no idea who she is, or why she’s stopped there, but she looks lost.
Her long, dark hair moves slightly in the breeze and when it finally blows away from her face I can see her magnificent brown eyes and perfect pink lips. If my wishes came true and I was finally dead I know I’d be looking at the face of an angel.
I shouldn’t be standing in front of my window in the daylight staring at her. If she turned at just the right angle she could see me, and that wouldn’t be pretty. It would probably traumatize her. I need to move away from the window, but I can’t. I’m completely mesmerized by her.
When she looks at the street sign then looks up and down the block again there’s little doubt in my mind that she’s lost. I want to tell her that she’s just a block from campus. She hasn’t wandered too far afield. But I can’t leave the house, especially not in the daylight. I know as soon as she took one good look at me she’d probably run away screaming before I even had a chance to utter a word.
As she heaves a large sigh my gaze is immediately drawn to her chest. She’s wearing a pale pink sundress that fits like a glove and accentuates all of the lovely curves of her petite body. For a few moments I think about what it would be like to have my hands on her body. To touch her in the most intimate of ways. To run my fingers along her perfect, unblemished skin.
Then I chide myself for even giving in to those thoughts. There’s no use in imagining what I can never have again. Access to a woman’s body is something I lost forever. No woman would ever consider being with someone as damaged and disfigured as I am.
I considered my life over the day that half of my flesh was burned off of my body. The doctors working on me didn’t think I would live. They called it a miracle that I didn’t die. I call it a life sentence with no chance of parole.
I realized pretty quickly that my life had irrevocably changed. What I didn’t really understand until much later was the impact my injuries would have on the other people in my life.
It wasn’t until my high school girlfriend, Sara, was finally allowed to visit me that reality punched me in the face and knocked my teeth out. Sara and I had been together for over a year when it happened. She would have been burned just like me if she didn’t have a doctor’s appointment that morning and arrived late to school.
Her allergy shots kept her from dying in the blaze, or even worse, surviving it like I did.
She told me that she loved me nearly every day we were together. She was supposed to be my soul mate. We were supposed to spend our lives together.
But when she saw me in the hospital for the first time after the school bombing it was like she didn’t know me. When she looked at me all the love vanished from her beautiful brown eyes. It was like she was looking at a complete stranger.
That was the moment I knew my life as I had known it was over. Sara never came back to visit me and I never saw her again.
I spent my senior year of high school being homeschooled because I was in and out of the hospital so much. I’m smart and was always a good student so I finished all of my work early and started taking college classes in January of what was supposed to be my senior year of high school.
I traded in my high school prom and senior graduation parties for a life of worldwide hacking jobs and built my reputation as one of the best in the field of cyber espionage.
For a brief moment I panic because the girl standing outside my house turns to face me and for a second it’s almost like she can see inside of my house and she’s watching me.
But I know it’s not possible. If she really had caught a glimpse of me she would have already backed away in horror, wouldn’t she?
The girl just looks puzzled. Her head is cocked like she’s trying to figure something out. Then I see her walk towards the front of my house.
I hurry out of the kitchen and into the living room. I move the curtains on the front windows the slightest bit so that I can just make out what she’s doing. She’s standing right outside on the front walk way, staring at my front entrance.
What in the world could she possibly want with me?
Then it occurs to me. Maybe it’s not me she wants at all. Maybe she’s one of my aunt’s former students.
She looks down at a small piece of paper in her hands and then looks back up at the house. It’s almost as if she’s trying to decide whether or not she should walk up to the front door and knock.
I’m not sure what I’ll do if she does decide to knock on the door. It’s broad daylight. I only have deliveries come at night, when it’s difficult to see me, and I always leave the lights off, obscuring their view of me even further.
I hold my breath waiting to see what the girl will do. Just when I think she might make her way up to the door she takes off down the road instead.
I breathe a small sigh of relief that I don’t have to deal with her at the door. But in a small way I also feel a twinge of disappointment.

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about the author

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USA TODAY Bestselling author Dakota Madison is known for writing New Adult and contemporary romance with a little spice and lots of heart. She likes to explore current social issues in her work. Dakota is a winner of the prestigious RONE Award for Excellence in the Indie and Small Publishing Industry. When she’s not at her computer creating spicy stories Dakota likes to spend time with her husband and their bloodhounds at their home outside Phoenix, Arizona. Dakota also writes under the pen names SAVANNAH YOUNG, SIERRA AVALON and REN MONTERREY.

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Angels with Attitude - Author Interview

What would you have done differently if you were the main character of your book?

The main character hides what she believes is a terrible secret. I don’t think I would have hidden it at all. It’s difficult to say, however, if you’ve never experienced it.

What was your inspiration behind this book? 

I was starting to see a lot of articles like this one: http://jezebel.com/the-story-behind-american-universitys-rapey-violent-se-1566309032  about rape on college campuses and I wanted to address the problem in a novel. I was also inspired by the current trial of Boston Marathon bomber Dzhokhar Tsarnaev. I wondered what it would be like to be the sibling of someone who committed such a horrible act. What would your life be like? And what would happen when you came face to face with one of your brother’s victims?

Why did you become a writer?

I’ve wanted to write ever since I learned to read. It’s definitely a passion of mine.
Do you have a favorite author or authors?
One of my favorites is Colleen Hoover. I love her writing style and the subjects she chooses to tackle.

Do you like to write your books in a continuing series? 

I think readers enjoy continuing series more than stand-alone novels.

If you could date any character from any book, who would it be and why?

My biggest character crush is still Kian Kavanagh from my Dakota Madison Fire on Ice series. I think it’s because he’s the character I’ve written who is most like my husband.

What kinds of books do you like to read in your spare time?

I read a lot of different types of books, but I tend to enjoy romance novels the most.

As a reader and writer I think it is important to get to know your fans and make a connection with them as an author who takes the extra step to hear what their fans think and want in their continued writing is continued success and key to selling more books .Do you agree with that?

I often ask my fans for suggestions for my books. Of course I only have three of them…just kidding! 

Do you cry when writing sad scenes?

Yes! I always wondered if I was the only person who did that.

Did you have a Cover Designer?

I use a number of different cover designers. For his book I used http://coveryourdreams.net/

Who is your fictional boyfriend or girlfriend crush? 

Right now I have a crush on Dick Casablancas (played by Ryan Hansen). He’s a character in Veronica Mars and Play It Again, Dick.

If you were able to dine and have a one on one with your favorite writer/author who would it be?

Even though I don’t read much horror I’d love to meet Stephen King. He’s such a prolific writer I’d love to pick his brain!

Do just re-read your favorite books? 

I have re-read a few books. The book I’ve re-read the most times is Beautiful Disaster.

Do you ever get in a reading slump like your readers do? 

Not really. I like so many different types of things it doesn’t seem to be an issue.
What is the funniest book you ever read?
Lunatics by Dave Barry and Alan Zweibel 

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